


Where life comes alive

by Calici



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-26
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-06 07:01:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1848826
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calici/pseuds/Calici
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sandor becomes enamored with Sansa on the kings road (rather than after the first day of the tourney) and saves Lady; preserving Sansa's link to the north and her brothers and at the same time influencing lightly on her character and perspective. </p><p>"I now realize, I got busy living when your eyes met mine... before? I only was getting busy dying."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue and Past

She took a step backwards, goose bumps making their way slowly down her back in the most dreadful way, and backed into someone.

A strong hand grasped her by the neck and out of the sudden she felt a strange sensation shook her through her core. Not quite a sense of safety, not quite calmness but some sort of assurance. She turned and the dismorphed smile of Sandor Clegane greeted her. 

"You are shaking girl" a rasp of a voice stated, "Do I frighten you so much" he mocked.

In truth, he did. But right there and then, he somehow didn't. The man who Lady had growled at frighten her not him, Ser Ilyn she later learned. The Hound? Not now at least.

"No" she answered quietly, not really knowing if this man was meant to be a receiving end of her courtesies. Either way, she repeated what her septa taught her.

 "Pardon me, Ser" she stepped away " you only caught me unawares". She sealed her words with a small smile, that shockingly enough was easy to conjure, and looking him directly in the eyes, for once not turning away from his scars.

 Right then and there before the old gods and the new; before the bluest sky; before a girl with fire in her hair, music in her voice and a direwolf pup at her side; the loyalty of a dog, flattered.

 

He turned away, not truly feeling in the mood for mocking the girl anymore and grunted as a response.

 

\--

 

"He doesn't mean Lady does he?" As she saw her father's grim face "No!" She pleaded, " Not lady, it wasn't Lady, she's good, she didn't do anything" tears stinging her eyes.

 "Lady wasn't there" Arya's voice for the first time supporting her's. " Leave her alone!" 

 Both girls pleaded to her father for mercy, mercy on an innocent soul, while he hold them; proving to be a miserable source of consolation, Sansa's blue eyes cutting her Father's. Ned feeling he was failing them.

 A few more words were exchange and the girls were sent to their wagon wailing miserably, already mourning for their lost companions, their lost staunchest friends. They entered the wagon both a mess of tears and waited for their father. 

 It seemed an eternity had passed when finally the eyes of Eddard Stark looked into the empty pools of Sansa's.

 "She ran" at first Sansa did not quite understand, but as the seconds went by a big bright smile slowly appeared on her beautiful face; the fantastic news dulling her headache.

"She wasn't there and that has been the end of it. The queen is furious"

Tears of relieved streamed down her cheeks: she lived. The gods had answered her prayers with kindness of the purest sort. Her Lady, although now lost, was alive. And that was more than enough. Her gentle Lady had almost died for an act she hadn´t committed, all because the whims of the queen. Was she really that cruel? That was impossible to believe, but disillusionment began to grow within her.

When both of the girls were changing for the night they heard a lone howl filling the darkness. 

"Its Nymeria" Arya said with a tone of sadness but full of certainty. When another howl joined the first, both were surprised.

"Lady" Sansa whispered, " they found each other"

"Yes, at least they will be together, I hope Lady is better company than you" Arya replied acidly, angry with her sister for not telling the truth before.

"I don’t understand though, Lady was chained,” wondered out loud Sansa.

"Don’t try to, you are too stupid. You own someone a great debt." Sansa knew she should feel offended but at the moment she couldn't, her sister was right. 

_One day I will pay my debt_ Sansa promised to the old gods of winter for the first time. Meanwhile a hulk of a man carried away a young body, feeling like a complete and fucking fool.

 

\---

 

Sandor's life continued as it has always been: babysitting a fucking asshole in the disguise of a fucking prince. It was tedious and boring and the rode to an icy hell and back had been fucking hideous.

However, not even under torture he would have admitted the rode back hadn’t been as horrible as the rode there. The cold had been hard to endure, but wine had warmed his blood. He thought he was doomed to be bored to an early grave with the bloody m’lords and m’ladies. But within the first day he found the whores to be quite nice, the wine good, the food tasty and truth be told the men entertaining.

It was on the fifht day however when he caught the sight of a girl with red hair beautifully dressed in fur as he returned with the king’s hunting party. At her sight, his saliva went the wrong way and began coughing desperately.

"What is it Hound?" The Lannister men teased, "The Lannister's dog killed by his own spittle. Ha! Imagine!" The rest laughed while the Hound composed himself. 

"Mayhap, it has way more possibilities of defeatin’ me than you, useless lot" the Hound growled.

The girl had been waiting for them along with Ned Stark’s eldest son and their respective direwolves, uneasy and desperate. _A Stark, of course she had to be highborn lady_. “Father,” the boy began “I have ill news, Bran has suffered a terrible accident..”

The Hound’s face remained impassive, while the King and the Stark lord hurried down their horses. His eyes never leaving the beautiful face of the northern she-wolf, he drank the sight of her.

These kind of ladies were born to be looked at and never touch anyway, at least for the likes like him. So looking was everything he did, and thought while the girl followed closely her father and brother, that perhaps she was the most gorgeous girl he had ever seen. And he had seen quite a few.

 

-

 

When they arrived at King´s Landing they parted ways and that had been it. His life had consisted in following the golden boy during day, and drinking, fucking or fighting during the night. If as of late, most of the whores had been red of hair, and white of skin he thought nothing of it.

“There is going to be a tournament dog,” the boy said immediately when he saw him, spitting some of his breakfasts. “For the new Hand of the King” the prince said making an exaggerated move with his hands “The man is a nuisance, but it’ll be fun don’t you think” he said mostly to himself

“Aye it will, Your Grace.” Fighting, there was nothing best.

“You will of course enter the list. The Mountain that rides is coming and you shall defeat him, just to spite my mother and grandfather I bet you would like that or my uncles! HA!” he laughed knowing well the Hound’s opinion respecting his brother. The Hound’s blood began to boil and his finger to twitch already feeling the excitement of it all. A chance to kill Gregor? He will definitely take it. 

“You are right, Your Grace, it will be fun indeed” he replied

“Indeed! You shall train, the tournament is in a 2 months time, after supper you are free to go and hone your killing skills, I want my dog ready for the slaughter” The boy finish grinning maliciously.

 

\--

 

“Sweet girl, how about the soft green one? Have you consider it?” Asked Septa Mordane for hundredth time.

“I have Septa, but I want to wear the pale blue one, I want to give my support to the north.” Answered Sansa for the hundredth time; it was a beautiful silk gown that felt so cool against the oppressing heat of the south, its pale blue shade brought out her eyes and her fiery hair. She looked beautiful with both of them. But she had a promise to keep to the north and its gods. Although to be fair she didn’t think they would go far, knights of songs were coming after all.

“Family, Duty, Honour. You are right child.” Of course she was.

 

Sansa rode to the Hand’s tourney with the Septa and Jeyne Poole. Behind the golden curtains the splendour made Sansa breathless. It was a dream come true, shining armours everywhere, banners snapping in the wind, crowds cheering and shouting. She commented everything that was to be commented with Jayne, giggling and gasping as they recognized some of the knights.

The men and women alike looked at her and smiled, and she smiled back.

The day went away so fast for Sansa, the jousting being just what she had expected and more. It was until Ser Gregor’s second joust when the most shocking moment of the day came. The man fall near Sansa, blood flowing out of his neck in pulses. Sansa stared alone, Septa had taken Jeyne away after her hysterical fit of tears, and felt sad for the poor man.

She felt a heavy sensation in her head and looked up straight into Sandor Clegane`s Hound Helmet. _Is he looking at me_? She couldn’t be sure, as his eyes were blocked. She stared mayhap for a few seconds or minutes she would never know. She could only wonder what would the fearsome man was thinking.

The dead body was removed and the joust continued. At the end of the day the only thing that mattered was that the Knight of Flowers had praised her for her beauty with a red rose.

 

\--

 

“Ser Loras has a keen eye for beauty, sweet lady” said Joffrey. Sansa knew she should have been angry with him after Lady, but that had been the queen. She was the one to blame.

“He was too kind” she replied gently with a soaring heart. “Do you think he will win tomorrow my Lord?”

“No” he said “My dog will do for him, perhaps my uncle Jaime..” the conversation waxed and waned over dinner. Singers filling the dusk with music. Everything was perfect for Sansa.

“It grows late” the prince said resting a hand on her arm, clearly not seeing her at all, Sansa pondered what had caught his attention. “Do you need a escort back to the castle” his voice distant and uncaring, it made her remember of the Joffrey that had caused the near execution of Lady and the dead of her sister’s butcher friend.

“No thank you very much I know the way” she was surprised by her response she had ought to say yes but the magic had been evaporated by Joffrey’s own attitude and almost she didn’t recognize herself when she found she would rather be alone.

“I insist sweet Lady, _Dog!”_ Sandor Clegane appeared out of thin air, _had he been right behind us all this time?_ She shuddered. “Take my Betrothed back to the castle and see no harm befalls her” Without a farewell he left. Sansa frowned. Prince Joffrey had two faces it seemed, the gallant and the.. the bad.

“You thought Prince Joffrey was going to escort you girl? Small chance of that” he laughed clearly drunk. She felt suddenly afraid, not because of him, she somehow knew he wouldn’t harm her, but still.

He pulled her to her feet “Truthfully, I find it better this way” her mouth said without her permission, yes it was the truth, she would rather be escorted by the Hound than the cold Joffrey who had just left.

Clegane stared at her with a peculiar look and simply said “Come, you are not the only one needs sleep. I’ve drunk too much and I may need to kill my brother tomorrow” laughing again.

With only a dim light coming from the torch The Hound had snatched, it was hard for her to keep the pace. The ground was rocky and uneven, the flickering light tricking her eyes with the shifting shadows. _Oh no!_ Was Sansa last thought as she slipped with a shriek and prepared herself for the hard fall that never came.

One strong arm caught her quickly; Clegane pulled her close while keeping the torch away. Time stopped, Sansa’s heart was beating furiously on her ears, she could feel the deep blush creeping on her face and only hopped The Hound couldn’t see it.

 

She saw his face, both of them. The scarred and the unscarred. Not turning or avoiding, just like the time back in the Kingsroad, so many days ago. _He is so ugly_

 

Clegane stared deeply into the blue eyes turned purple by the light, and found his reflection staring back. He saw her, all of her. Her beauty and her naiveté; her courage and her fears; her expectations and hopes; the Tully and the Stark; and finally the all-consuming anger came back realizing he she was way beyond the reach of a scared dog. Why was he bothering in the first place?

 

He realeased her and continued walking without a second glance.

 

They walked among the pavilions, the silence weighing heavier with every stride. Sansa was left breathless by the closeness; the raw feelings dancing behind those pale blue greyish eyes. Was the man really so dual? One second laughing and mocking the other gentle. He was mad. A mad dog, Sansa concluded shaking and in the verge of crying. However, things were expected from her and so she spoke.

 

“You fought gallantly ser” not the right choice of words she immediately learned.

“Spare me your fake words and courtesies girl..” what followed was an outburst of anger as angry words came insulting the Knights, the ser’s, herself and his brother. Livid, the man was always livid, that was what scared her: so much hate behind his words.

 

\--

 

After Sandor’s tale they walked silently towards the castle and inside. His burns, _Only a man that knows fire has been in hell_ and so young, how cruel the gods where sometimes. Perhaps Ser Greagor Clegane was the Stranger himself. Cruel, unforgiving, and random.

When the silence went on and on after his tale she found herself afraid for Sandor Clegane, so much anger was going to eat him alive and kill him. Mayhap tomorrow if he fought his brother.

She found his massive shoulder with her hand and whispered “He is no true knight” he threw his head and cackled.

“You don’t get it, little bird” he said using the nickname he had decided for her moments ago “There are no knights” his words so final, he had to be wrong.

He took her safe through the corridor outside her bed chamber

 

“Thank you” Not adding any titles after his outburst earlier. The Hound leaned close and Sansa took a step back against the door. Her throat constricting; his drunken breath caressing her face. No sense of personal space in between them. Sansa felt nervous, she had never been so close to another man like this, aside from her family.

“The things I told you tonight,” his voice a rough whisper “if you ever tell any of them…”

“I wont, I promised” Sansa whispered back

“If you ever tell anyone, _I will kill you_ ” he finished and turned. He never took a step though a tiny hand grabbed him firmly.

 

Sansa was as mad he, she thought but she found courage she had never knew she had before. This man had suffered through a lot, as a highborn lady she had been taught kindness without prejudice. His exterior shouldn’t be something that mattered and so she spoke.

“Wait” she went inside and stared at her empty chambers _Great, I’m brilliant_ she thought. She was indeed stupid as her sister and the Hound had told her. She opened and old box and grabbed one of her ribbons, a blue one with wolves’ heads printed. Sansa returned to the door not really expecting him to be on the other side.

But there he was stoic as a statue, he found herself painfully aware of his height, as she had to look up and up to find his pale blue eyes.

Now, really expecting to be mocked at, she took a deep breath and grabbed his hand surprisingly unresisting. She then tied the blue ribbon around his right wrist slowly with her trembling hands. When she was done she looked up again and said.

 

“I…” Sansa felt so stupid she wanted to drop dead right there, she had always been so eloquent and just that moment her words had chosen to betray her as she looked up again, _What are you thinking?_ “I will be watching you”

Before he could say anything she turned and entered hastily her chambers.

 

\--

 

What had the girl been thinking? _Her favour? really? What am I supposed to do now?_ He thought as he prepared Stranger, no squire could get near him and that was exactly what he wanted. He had piss on girl’s favours all his life finding it useless and senseless. Now that he had received one he didn’t know what to do. He had been so glad the little bird had scurried into her nest.

His squires fastened his breastplate as he stared at the void. _What now? What did it mean? Had she done it for pity after hearing his story?_ He felt himself getting angry surely that was it; no other reason was logical, stupid little bird. He had no need for her pity and words. When the squires left him he grabbed the ribbon that he had hidden earlier in his olive cloak and stared at it angrily. He had wanted to destroy it right there and then, but when he looked at it he froze.

He couldn’t wear it, he couldn’t. Not after realizing the motive and remembering his hate for this stupid things. But he couldn’t throw it either, it was too fucking precious. For gods’ sake he had watched it all night like a helpless fool. A nickered Stranger brought him back from his dilemma.

 

Sandor’s pride wouldn’t let him wear it, but Stranger had no pride only power. He tied it on his Horse’s saddle on a place no one would notice if they weren’t looking.

 

Sandor was the first to arrive wearing his hound’s-head helm. The crowed cheered wanting blood and a good show. He cursed his own stupidity but found himself searching through the crowd for a glimpse of red hair. And when he found her he took a sharp intake of air. Fuck the gods she was striking, Sandor suddenly thought, and looked away. If she was so beautiful this young, when she reached womanhood she will be like a goodness.

 

True to her words, she was watching him intently.

 

\--

 

Sansa was so engrossed with the Hound she hardly noticed anything else. _Is he wearing it?_ She wondered. It didn’t mattered she had given it as a token and he was to decide what to do with it, it wasn’t her business. But still, she wanted to see him wearing it and felt a tinge of disappointed when she couldn’t spot it… of course! If the Hound had wear it questions would have arise, and the prince’s swornshield wearing his betrothed favour wouldn’t have looked good. What had she been thinking?

As he rode against Ser Jaime he found herself worrying over the man. She was so confused over her feelings, she wished for Lady; a look from her would take all her worries away.

 

When the Hound finally un-horsed Ser Jaime she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. “I knew the Hound would win,” She whispered.

 

\--

When the Tyrell rosy boy made his entrance and a murmur went through the crowd The Hound rolled his eyes. He turned to Sansa, betting it was he she would have preferred to giver her favour. Oddly enough it was him she was looking again at. What was the little bird thinking he wondered. Never knowing both were wondering the same.

 

He turned and saw. Clever boy: a mare in heat. He turned again to observe Gregor’s mount and clearly watched him fighting with the reins: this was over. He had wanted to fight Gregor but the time will come. And as he predicted, Loras Tyrell made Gregor shook the earth with his fall. He laughed, at his brother’s shame. Good, Loras trick was not going to work on his Stranger, his horse wasn’t a mindless beast. Something Gregor’s wild one was.

 

But as Gregor rose and stroke the poor untrained animal, he grabbed his own sword knowing full well what would follow. The Beast of a man was clearly looking for a good slice of Tyrell meat. The rest screamed, some in horror, some in fear, as he blocked his brother stroke “Leave him be” he rasped.

They began to fight; Gregor had gone crazy with anger and Sandor with excitement.

He was finally giving Sandor an excuse to put him down and he wasn’t going to waste it. He blocked and attacked knowing their movements to be almost mirror-like. _I am so close_ he thought while he hammered at his brother. It could all end up right there and then. But when a roaring voice reached his ears he immediately bowed dodging Gregor’s sword by doing so.

 

The king had spoken, Gregor had no other choice but to stop and walk away. Sandor was panting the euphoria out of his system and as the Knight of Flowers walked back and said to him “I owe you my life, the day is yours, ser”

 

“I am no ser” Sandor grunted but taking the victory anyway. He was brought back to earth by the crowd cheering. He turned towards Sansa, seeing her smiling and cheering too. _The girl is mad_ , he thought as he walked away.

\--

 

“Jaime Lannister murdered Jore and Heward and Wyl, and the Hound murdered Mycah! Somebody should have beheaded _them”_ Arya shoutedand Sansa felt awfully sad suddenly she had been so happy talking about Lord Beric and Alyn in their quest against Ser Gregor. Only to be reminded of the Hound true nature.

 

She had been denying herself to linger as much as a thought of him. But she had failed miserably, for instance every time she entered her chambers she remembered that night against her will. She felt stupid; she ought to be thinking about handsome boys like Ser Loras or even Alyn. Or lemoncakes. Instead she was thinking of an ugly and rude man.

 

“That is different” she finally responded, knowing full well she was lying.

 

When the orange flew against her dress, and the nasty words came out. Sansa thought she truly hated her sister.

 

\---

 

 

“But they have the soft hearts of women. So long as I am your King, treason shall never go unpunished. Sery Ilyn Bring me his head”

 

_It is my fault._

 

She thought as she stood in the plaza dumbfounded by the things Joffrey had said. She had lied and preferred the queen and the prince, now everyone was paying the price.

 

“NO!” She screamed her throat raw, and made haste towards her father but two strong arms hold her from behind before she even made a step. “Be strong, little bird” a rasped voice whispered but she did not hear.

 

Her father turned and saw her for the last time _and smiled._

 

She would never forget that smile; everything was soundless in Sansa’s ears Ser Ilyn approached him. Ice in hand, his father mouthed something but she couldn’t understand him. In a few seconds Eddard Stark’s head fell in the cold hard floor. She was finally released and before his body hit the ground she caught him.

 

She held his headless body for a few moments, screaming so hard her voice suddenly fall silent, and continued until the Hound’s hold gripped her away at last. She managed to take something though a necklace her father always wore, made of dragonglass.

 

\--

 

He dreaded the instant they would arrive. Sandor didn’t want to go. Anything but that. He had no choice though and as he finally stood before the door that brought an all-sweet memory he braced himself and he pushed it open. Joffrey enter the room with Meryn and Ilyn trailing behind as the girl turned. He took his time.

 

Her bed hangings were yanked and she threw her hands against the piercing light; eyes as red as her hair with lips swollen and trembling. _She is just a child_ he remembered as he stood still outside her chamber.

 

“You will attend me in court this afternoon.” Joffrey commanded, looming over her, “See that you bathe and dress as befits my betrothed” The Hound wasn’t surprise, and she shouldn’t be either.

 

She looked up to Joffrey but her eyes drifted towards the Hound. The helplessness in her made him clench his fist. “Please… leave me,” she begged chirping the word of courtesy.

Joffrey ordered the Hound to get Sansa ready and he couldn’t do anything but obey. When he scooped her by the waist and felt her almost naked body against him he tensed even more. _She is a child_. And yet he could already feel a womanly waist appearing.

 

She went limp against him but as soon as he placed her down as gently as he could in front of her wardrobe she turned fierce. “I want to go home, you have taken everything you can, and I did everything I was told. I wont do any treason, I’ll be good.” After her outburst she remembered her courtesies “Please Your Grace”

 

“Mother says I’m still to marry you, so you _will_ stay here and obey me”

“I don’t want to marry you! Monster! You behaded my father” how could she ever thought him handsome? How could she have professed herself in love? She asked herself with angst.

 

 _You don’t get it little bird there are no knights._ Life is not a song, Littlefinger had told her.

 

“I _hate_ you” Sansa declared with a sore voice full of anger, and the Hound internally smiled. _Too late for that little bird_.

 

The boy face turned into a sneered. “Ser Meryn” The knight was on her in an instant and yanking away the girl’s hand as she tried to shield herself he backhanded her across her cheek. The Hound saw her sprawling on the hard floor. He felt a new kind of ire, his chest constricted, his blood quicken and his mouth went dry at the sight of the fallen beauty at his feet.

 

The girl kept her head down as she clutched her face, the Hound turned to Trant and saw blood on his gauntlets. He had always been loyal to death but right then he barely restrained himself from punching the prick. He was confused, what was the girl doing to him? He needed wine and a whore to forget her and everything. To drown the emotions that were torturing him.

 

“I shall look for you after court.” Joffrey and the other two knights left without another word, but the Hound lingered and yanked the girl to her feet roughly. “Save yourself some pain girl” _and me_ “give him what he wants” he rasped.

“what.. what does he want?” he gently touched her broken lip; he was weak before her he realized painfully “He wants you to behave as you always have, to smile prettily and for you to smell the fresh perfume that lingered on you. To chirp you courtesies and be perfect as you were taught to be… He wants you to love him, and fear him”

 

He went silent for a second as she grabbed his hand and spotted the blue ribbon tied discreetly on his wrist, his robes covering it. “We wants to break you.. be strong”. He repeated.

 

He had been long gone before two Lannister bedmaids approached her cautiously. “I need hot water..”

 

\--

 

“I want to show you what happens to traitors.”

 

Sansa jerked back away trembling “I won’t, _I won’t”_ She said as she shook her head violently. “I can have Ser Meryn drag you up and you won’t like that” he warned “Do as I say” He reached for her and Sansa cringed away, backing into the Hound.

“Do it, girl” he told her, pushing her gently toward the King. She turned to the Hound and found the courage to do it. And as she watched the rotten face of her father she thought of his last words She could remember his mouth moving but Sansa could not decipher the words.

 

 _Be strong_ Maybe those were.

 

Joffrey said something about battles and heads but Sansa paid no attention. She looked up at the sky and saw the crescent moon appearing mid day and it sometimes did. _Lady, are you watching it too?_ “Maybe my brother will bring me your head” he wouldn’t kill her she understood then. Understood her situation. She was hostage, caged to be used and beaten.

As Ser Meryn grabbed her jaw and stroke her so hard on each cheek she remembered:

 _Save your self some pain, girl_ she was a fool. Sansa became dizzy with the pain and felt blood again in her mouth. “You look horrible clean yourself”

 

Sansa looked up and saw Joffrey standing on the edge, a hard fall awaiting him. _I could do it._ It was as easy as it looked _. I can. You will look more horrible with your brains crushed against the floor._

But before she could do anything the Hound was kneeling before her, between Sansa and Joffrey. The moment was broken. “Here girl,” he whipped her lip with rare delicacy. “Thank you” Sansa said lowering her head.

 

“Dog, take her back to her chamber she has bored me”

 

\--

 

They walked together in silence, Sansa’s face was throbbing and her head was killing her. When they were climbing the stairs she leaned against the wall for a little break, her head dizzy. The Hound stopped and watched her from a step above, towering her even more. “Why you never listen, girl?” he barked angrily.

 

“Why did you stop me?” Sansa asked, “I would have done a favour to the world and you know it” fingers massaging her temples.

“It is my duty to protect him, even from little birds like you, girl. Don’t presume other things” he mocked.

“You are cruel” She began to sob “Why? For doing my fucking job?” He rasped

“I can’t do it, I can’t. I am not strong. That is Arya,” She cried suddenly remembering her sister and collapsed. “You are not born strong, girl, you learn or you die. That is life.” The Hound growled lifting her entirely in his arms and carried her the rest of the way. “The mountain was born strong,” Sansa said as she rested her head against his chest, smelling the alcohol and the leather. “He was born a monster”

 

When they reached her chambers he gently lowered her back on her feet. Sansa steadied herself against his arm. “I will send a girl with a herb tee, that will help,” He grumbled.

 

“Thank you”

 

\--

 

“It is your fault!” King Joffrey roared. It was definitely not her fault but Sansa apologize anyway. “I am sorry Your Grace”

“You are not! Not yet” and for the first time slapped her himself. She was used to it, no tears came as her cheek stung. “Ser Ilyn! Leave her face, I like her pretty” She closed her eyes and prepared herself; Payne’s blows were harder than the rest. The bruises took days and days to wear off. She quickly stole a glance from Sandor, who was standing in front of the king. A quick glance gave her strength; she once concluded that maybe Sansa borrowed it from him, and he took it back every time the Hound return her to her chambers. Because that was when the tears finally came.

 

However, what happened shocked her Ser Ilyn punched her the ribs twice so hard, she felt blood in her mouth, then with the blunt side of his sword hit her hard behind her legs. She collapsed to the floor. “Your stupid brother is a farce! I ought to send you to him piece by piece what would he think? First, some fingers, then an ear, then you hair, maybe a blue eye and finally your head.” He said while Ser Ilyn grabbed her hair and tugged it hard, making her scream and forcing her to look at the King. He was humiliating her and it was working.

 

The court was present, all were quite.

 

“Please Your Grace, let me talk to my traitor brother I will speak sense to him.” He spitted her; it hurt more than any blow “You are stupid haven’t I told you before?” he asked. “You are wolf, and I ought to kill you right now, if my mother didn’t insist so much on keeping you alive you would be dead!” The King was fuming and never had Sansa seen him so angry. “You know what it occurred to me? A wolf wears only his skin” She felt Ser Ilyn stripped her, tearing her dress and all Sansa could do was clasp whatever fabric she could get her hands on against her chest. “Please Your Grace” She sobbed.

 

“What is the meaning of this!” A strong voice appeared “What are you doing Joffrey? Is that your betrothed” Tyrion questioned.

“She is a traitor her broth-”

“Her brother is a thousand leagues away” Tyrion interrupted “And you have her here naked for everyone to see!” He scolded, “Your defeat is not her fault! Its Yours! ” The dwarf suddenly looked taller than the King as Joffrey avoided his gaze “ I am the king, I can do as I please”

“Mad King Aerys did as he pleased, did your uncle Jaime told him what happened to him?” Tyrion Lannister asked.

“No one threatens the king in front of his kingsguard.” Ser Meryn warned.

“Bronn next time Ser Meryn speaks, kill him! That is a threat, see the diference?!” Tyrion turned back to the King.

“Punishing the girl for your on stupidity won’t do” Sansa stopped listening as the pain clouded her senses, her side was throbbing and when she tried to move she found it impossible. The last smile of her father came back to her mind. _Am I going to join you Father?_

 

Suddenly a cloak covered her naked back and strong hands grabbed her shoulders “Let’s go little bird.” Sandor Clegane’s voice was music to her ears. He helped her up as she winced, as stopped her form falling again.

 

He looked at the dwarf and when he nodded the Hound escorted her out of the hall. The Hound supported her all the way to the stairs that lead to Sansa’s chambers. Then he gently scooped her in his arms, and carried her the rest of the way, as he had done so many times before. Sansa winced with every step. Her side was hurting badly and she began to sob, only making it worse.

 

“Hush little bird we are almost there.” He manoeuvred to open the door and carried her inside. “My father gave this dressed” Sansa’s head was spinning as he gently laid her down her bed, still crying. She turned and coughed blood; suddenly feeling worried about the stupid sheets. “Fuck, girl” He heard Clegane curse. “Here, let me see” he softly lifted the cloak and Sansa’s arm immediately covered her breast “Fuck” he cursed again as he saw the bruise.

He squatted beside her bed and Sansa saw him pinch his nose so hard he was hurting himself. Sansa gently took his hand away from his nose. “It’s okay” she said

 

“Fuck girl is not okay, it’s already black! Where is that stupid maid of yours? You need attendance immediately” Sansa smiled at the Hound’s outburst, feeling something warm inside her. _He cares for me_ She realized full of awe. Sansa took her wrist and found what she was looking for. _He still wears it._ She looked at him square in the eyes, and found them beautiful. She realized the Hound didn’t appear as ugly as before; yes, it was a terrible burn, but the other side of his face, she noticed, wasn’t ugly at all. Not handsome but… manly.

 

The Hound grasped her hand firmly and with the other one covered her bruise with his cloak. “Little bird I-” the door flung open and quicker than a blink the Hound was up and 2 feet away. “Shae” Sansa said as the maid ran to her side “M’ Lady, where does it hurt”

“The girl has a massive bruise on her side, she is probably bleeding inside get the maester! You slow woman” Shae glared at him but then called another girl and send her for the Measter.

 

Without another word, the Hound turned to leave, not before stopping at the doorway and glancing behind. Sansa smiled at him, he remained impassive but nodded and left.

 

Sansa would never know, but as the Hound walked down the corridor he had a small smile on his face. But, it turned sour as the anger came back to him. He had to get rid from the tension. He couldn’t go and kill Joffrey nor fuck a whore anymore he had found a while ago. Sansa’s face always popped in his mind and Sandor didn’t want to touch another woman that wasn’t her _I might as well take the black then_. So it was fighting or drinking. He opted for the second.

 

\--

 

“Seven blessings for you m’ King” the crowd mocked, The Hound immediately gripped tightly Joffrey by the arm.

 

“Bastard” another shouted “Monster”

 

“Who said that?!” roared Joffrey but was silenced by ball of slime smashing against his face “Who did that? Bring them to me!?” The Hound grabbed Joffrey by the chest almost carrying him and made haste to the castle as the riot arose. He made haste slashing anyone who stood in his path. And as they reached the castle he heard the Imp screaming at Meryn “Go and find the Stark girl!” “I only take orders from the King!”

The Hound instantly released Joffrey and went back, his heart was pounding in his ears but not because of excitement as before, but fear. Raw fear gripping his chest. He made his way striking and smashing at anyone who stood in his path. _Where are you little bird?_ Suddenly Clegane spotted from afar three beggars following a swirl of purple he knew to be Sansa’s dress.

 

He ran, inebriated with fury, seeming like a bull who had spotted his target, stampeding. When he reached the entrance of the alley he saw Sansa’s dress all the way up her chest and two men holding her while another was already unfastening his laces. _Dead men._ He took pleasure at the sight of the man’s bowels falling, and the sound of the neck breaking for another; finally, the spray of blood flowing out of the last one’s throat who had tried to escape. He took pleasure from all three.

 

Panting, the Hound strode back to Sansa was, and offered his hand. She took it gladly and before he knew he had her arms around him, holding him closely as she cried. “Its alright now, girl” the Hound put an arm around her shoulders briefly, smelling her sweet scent and savouring the way her body was pressed against him. _She is more of woman each passing day_ before lifting her.

\--

 

Sansa was walking alone towards the God’s wood thinking of Lady, if Sansa closed her eyes, she could almost feel Lady’s body pressed against her leg padding softly. _I miss you so much my friend, but I am glad you are not here._ She opened her eyes at the sound of heavy boots echoing in the corridor. Sansa stopped, turned and waited. As the big body of Sandor Clegane appeared around the corner she released a sigh of relief. It was obvious to her the Hound didn’t knew she would be there because his good eyebrow went up and a surprise expression was clear on the good side of his face.

Sansa then searched for prying eyes or ears, and when she found none he met him halfway. The both stop and looked at each other.

 

“You are not drunk.” She stated, and the Hound barked a laugh “Not right now no, I am on duty” She breathed deeply and said

“I didn’t have the opportunity before and I wanted to thank you…” Ser? Lord? Better nothing “ for saving me that day”

“Chirping again little bird?” he mocked but Sansa was prepared “ It is my defence” the Hound frowned.

“Why would you need to defend yourself against me?” he sounded offended. Why indeed? maybe because he was another kind of danger. 

“You fought bravely” he truly did Sansa thought, changing the subject.

“Ha! A dog needs not a praise for chasing of rats” he rasped bitterly and Sansa flinched

“Do you like to scare people?” she asked, “No, I like to kill people, there is nothing sweeter” he told her with a grin

Sansa sulked and turned to leave “Is there?” she asked, not caring if the he had listened.

 

But he had. And as he watch her go, he let his eyes roam she was way more gorgeous than before, Sandar had thought that impossible _I don’t know anymore_ he admitted to himself. Before taking another path.

 

\--

 

“It’s called Hearteater” he boasted, “Kiss it”

 

The Hound rolled his eyes and turned not wanting to see Sansa doing as bid. “When I return for the battle and have Hearteater covered in my uncle’s blood I will have you kiss it again”

“You will slain him yourself then?” Sansa asked.

“If he is fool enough to come near me yes,” The King responded bored

“You will be outside the gates with the vanguard then?” She asked again and The Hound inwardly smiled, she was toying with him.

“The King doesn’t discuss battle plans with stupid girls!” he almost pouted.

“Of course, I am so stupid you will of course be outside the gates with the vanguard” she taunted. The Hound barely supressing his smile knowing the boy would be cowering behind his back. When the exchange had finished and Joffrey stormed away, she turned to him. They were surrounded by people; he could only nod before following Joffrey.

 

 _Nothing can be told with the eyes, what a stupid notion._ He had tried to tell Sansa he would be back for her. But the Hound was sure she didn’t understand. _Gods I am already drunk._

_\--_

 

 

Sansa entered hastily her bedchamber and close the door. She walked to the window and saw green fire eating away the harbour and the sky. _Gods please keep him safe_ she prayed. _Please_ she begged. Suddenly a hand covered her mouth and terror like no other paralyzed her.

 

“Shh Little bird” A familiar voice rasped and the hand release her, relief washed over Sansa “what are you doing here?” She questioned, though Sansa was glad Clegane wasn’t down there. “I was in your bed didn’t you see me?” clearly not. Sansa found him to be drunk like never before. “I am leaving” he declared and Sansa’s heart fell.

“Where?” She asked, “Anywhere, a place with no fire, somewhere cool. Maybe the north…” Clegane trailed off seating on the floor and pulling Sansa along “I could take you with me, all the way back to Winterfell, I would keep you safe” Sansa’s face was blank, as she considered it. For a brief moment She was about to say yes, but she had grown. She knew better. She would only be a burden, without her the Hound will be free to roam no one really searching for him. If he took her then everyone would be hunting them. She couldn’t do that to him. He deserved to be free.

“They won’t kill me, I will be safe here”

 

The Hound appeared again angry as hell and suddenly there was a knife at her throat. "...sing me a song, why don’t you? Go on. Sing to me. Some song about knights and fair maids. You like knights, don’t you?" Sansa felt so sad as she realized who he wanted to be. Her knight. She felt sad for her too, because she wanted that also. _Its not meant to be._

 

Sansa remembered the time he had cornered her outside her chamber, just before Tyrion Lannister appeared. He had had that heated look on his face, drunk, as he let his eyes roam. There had been no more beatings after the Imp had confronted Joffrey so they hadn’t really seen each other privately. She had felt so ashamed because of the new kind of excitement that flowered within her as The Hound looked at her like that. Once she would have felt offended and scared, but then, she was feeling a strange beating sensation down her loins. He had backed her against the wall and demanded a song just like he was doing now.

But that time had been different, that time he had noticed how Sansa’s eyes had become hooded, and leaned closer almost a breath away. She wasn’t sure what would have happen if the Imp hadn’t arrived.

 

Sansa gently pushed away the knife. “You won’t hurt me” Sandor sigh and let his arm fall “No little bird, I won’t hurt you” Sansa took his head in her hands and as she pressed her forehead against his, she softly started to sing a northern song. One that spoke of a couple that professed their love to each other, an old dance.

 

When she was finished, Sansa felt wetness; the one that was blood, and the one that was not blood. Sandor untangled himself and stood up with some difficulty, he reaped his not so white cloak, and turned to leave.

 

“Wait!” Sansa pleaded and he stood still, she went under her bed and grabbed something then turned to Sandor, who had been following her movements curiously with his eyes. She turned to him and said. “Please bow a little” _Always chirping_ Sandor thought but did as told. Sansa tied the her father’s necklace around his neck “Its Hail, he is made from dragon glass, please keep him safe. You can’t die you understand? I will need it someday.” It was very personal thing she what she was doing, and it warmed Sandor in a funny way.

 

“You can’t die,” She ordered, for once.

 

* * *

 

 

_Sansa was running through the forest, on four paws again. If she turned, she could see countless wolves running beside her. She suddenly halted and howled. Who am I calling? A strong howl answered back, and she knew. Her sister. She ran some more until she reached a place deep within the forest that was free of trees. It had a big pond that wasn’t quite a lake; she heard a noise and turned to see her wolf-sister approaching her. She glanced back at the pond and noticed something she hadn’t noticed before. A lone white tree with leaves red as blood that rested in a small island in the middle of the pond._

_She looked at him intently and found a face carved into the wood looking her back, she seemed in trance and couldn’t stop watching. Suddenly she felt a pull and sensed the face come near so fast that a second later she was before the lamenting grimace and could feel its eyes piercing through her soul._

 

Alayne Stone woke with a silent scream and sat, feeling dizzy

 

She had been dreaming she was a wolf more and more often. Always ending in the same place, at the pond with the heart tree. _What could it mean?_ Today was the day she left for Quite Isle, and she had wanted to get all the rest she could. But after a while she found impossible to sleep again. Alayne found herself thinking of man that had not purposefully stole her heart the day he left her. She couldn’t believe he was dead, she wouldn’t

 

Sansa had ordered him not to die.

 

[For the dancing and the dreaming... ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l_D74FztSZ8)

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song that Sansa sings is whichever you decide and want, personally I was thinking of "For the dancing and the dreaming" the song that appears in How to Train Your Dragon 2... I regret nothing.  
> English is not my native language if you find any mistakes please point them out and I will consider revising it :)  
> The quote at the summary is from the movie Shawshank redemption which I love.


	2. The Reason

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sandor and Sansa reunite

“I have been called back to King’s Landing Alayne, my sweet daughter” Her father informed her after giving her a kiss on the cheek. If Petyr Baelish was distraught by the news he did not show it. Alayne however felt her stomach fell at the mention of the place that had been her personal hell.

“Is that unexpected?” Alayne asked.

“Of course not, I had contemplated the possibility. With Cersei leading Westeros to bankrupt and all” the man sat behind his desk, and motion Alayne to sit on his lap. Alayne did as bid with a smile, inwardly feeling disgusted.

“I had already sent my reply, saying I couldn’t leave Lord Arryn, not now when his health vacillates” he explained while running his fingers through her hair.

“What was their reply?” Alayne asked, not really caring and forced herself to relax under his touch. Littlefinger was not leaving and she was disappointed. These interactions were happening more and more frequently. He was getting bolder by the day. Alayne needed him away at least for a few days; she was getting scared.

“Not something I like. It is obvious we can’t go to Kings Landing, not now. I made an arrangement then: I am to meet Ser Harys Swyft, halfway at Harrenhal. After all I am its Lord. Before we travel as planned to Runestone.” He explained, letting his hand wander further down Alayne’s back, the action sending shivers of repulse across her skin he always mistook for pleasure ones.

“I somehow detect there is still a problem.” Sansa guessed knowing full well Littlefinger loved to explain her his plans, as if he was proving he was smart. He only proved he was vicious and cunning, any regard Sansa could have had for him disappeared when she noticed his true colors. _He is probably the most dangerous man in Westeros._

“Indeed, Jaime Lannister currently resides at Harrenhal” A problem definitely, not a great mummer act nor a perfect dye nor anything could fool Jaime Lannister about Alayne’s true identity. _I am no to go with him._ She found the thought joyous, but retained her smile.

“Where am I to stay then?” Littlefinger smiled at her response, delighted that Alayne was following the conversation. “I had thought the Saltpans could be a good option, after all it is few days away from Harrenhal at horse back. But with the last slaughter I am not so sure. Quite Isle, on the other hand, seems a nice solution to our predicament; it’s close to the Saltpans. Its cottages for women could do for a week time or two.” He finished, stroking his goatee.

 

 

“Sweetrobin I know it is hard but it will only be for a little more than a week” Alayne said as she tried to calm the tempest of Robert’s fit. “I will go to Quite Isle and bring you a medicine close to magic, one that it will take all your fears away you shall see.”

“I DON’T CARE!” the boy screamed, Alayne took a deep breath mustering all the patience that could be mustered “You will love it there, here take this” She unfasten a necklace Petyr had given her and clasp it around Robert’s neck. An action that stung deeply _I had done this before, a lifetime ago… no, not me, not the bastard._ Alayne fought hard to regain her composure for a few seconds. "It will keep you safe, Sweetrobin."

“YOU CAN’T GO!” he still demanded, yelling. Sansa was running out of ideas and tolerance. She needed the boy to be calm or else Littlefinger could reconsider the idea of leaving her behind or worse, leaving Robert with her. Robert was yelling louder and louder and Sansa began to despair, Petyr Baelish was watching carefully. 

Sansa’s hands forcefully found the boy’s shoulders intending to shake him out of his tantrum. However, at contact the boy fall silent. Sansa felt waves of fear surge through her –tides of panic- _the only time you can be brave-_ Sansa thought hearing her father’s voice. She saw her own reflection for a second, as if Sansa was seeing with Robert Arryn’s eyes and not her own. But when she blinked, alarmed, and shook her head she was back.

“Sweetrobin, you have to be brave. For the vale’s destiny is in your hands.” Sansa told him gently behind a mask of composure, beneath she was afraid and confuse as if somehow Roberts own fears where taking hold of her “You think I can be brave Alayne?” the boy asked unsure, “I know it.” Sansa assured him with a smile “As high as honor. It is your time to fly Robert Arryn, Lord of the Vale” Fly or die.

The boy nodded weakly and allowed himself to be taken away. “I am impressed, you do seem to know your way with our Sweetrobin” Little finger commented. “He is just a child, father. He is not complicated.” Sansa explained.

They were still on the High Road, three days away from the Crossroads inn. Alayne’s time on the road had ended nonetheless. It was extremely dangerous for her to continue down their path, rumors whispered several gangs of bandits –a brotherhood without banners- where round and about. Or so Littlefinger claimed. She was then to be escorted to the Satlpans by a small party of guards serving under Lyn Corbray, through the woods. Away from the path.

She was getting very bad vibrations. Lyn Corbray evoke the same fear within her Ser Ilyn did –death- and it was not good.  _Lady would be growling at him, are you close my friend?_ Sansa wondered. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be alone with a dozen grown men. Mya Stone was to come with her as well. It had been painful to her leaving her mules behind,bBut the gold she had been offered was something she couldn’t afford to refuse.

“Well then my beautiful daughter, please be safe, I wont be long” Littlefinger said while reaching out for her. Alayne dutifully let him embrace her and hugged him back. After all there were eyes watching their every interaction. “You too father, I shall be praying for your safe return” _As if._

“I know you will”

 

 

 

Sandor was whipping the dirt from his hands when Elder Brother approached him. He had lost count of how many graves he had dig, he just did it day after day starting at sunrise, stopping at nightfall. He had not seen Elder Brother in a fortnight. His task consumed all the time he might even think to spare and he only stopped to eat, sleep and take a shit or a piss.

“Brother, you should rest a day or two, if you keep going you will die from fatigue and all my trouble for keeping you alive would have been in vain” Elder Brother scolded in a gently manner. _Hopefully, the sooner the better._

Sandor was lost. All he wanted was to meet the Stranger, have a drink or two and die. He was dead already after all, a man with no purpose had no will to live. He only digs senselessly because the damned old man just wouldn’t leave him die. _I’ve lost everything._ Sandor didn’t respond, he didn’t want to and was glad he couldn’t. The old knight continued.

“Brother I have to confess that although everyone seems to think of me as wise I sometimes believe I am the biggest fool. There will be a time when my instinct will fail me and I will do something beyond repair or forgiveness. Thankfully, it is not this time.” He finished smiling. Sandor didn’t catch the meaning of those words and didn’t try to; the old man was fond of babbling enigmatic thoughts while he dug.

Sandor sat on the dark mud and sighed. _What is he up to now?_ Resigned to a parcel of nonsense. His leg was hurting again; the pain barely tolerable. Once he had gotten so desperate by it that he had wished he had lost the fucking limb and punched his leg. He instantly regretted it. It was better now though; he limped, _prominently,_ but was getting better.

“Brother – Sandor, I believe the lone hill is quite a nice place to expect the unexpected. If I were you, I would go and watch the sun drown itself in the ocean. We are in for a nice view today.” He smiled one last time and turned to leave, leaving Sandor wondering if he had lost it completely, finally. Suddenly, the old man turned and added “And I would do it quickly, the best moments are blown away with fugacity.”

Sandor sat still for a few minutes watching him walk away. That had been by far the strangest talk he had heard from the man. Why should he go to the lone hill? His grave was there, and he had seen the view countless of times. Sandor was tired of digging though, a little rest sounded well. He stood up aiding himself with the shovel. And began walking towards his grave.

He snorted at the thought. _Walking towards my grave._ Where were the drums setting the pace for fatality? Where was the Stranger guiding him to hell? He had always wanted a magnificent death in battle. We wanted to want to fight, but with Gregor gone and she lost in the wind, fighting didn’t have the appeal it once possessed.

Sandor walked, more like limped, through the few trees that could hardly conformed a godswood, heading for a small glade were the lone hill was. The trees separated the tombs that were in the hill from the rest. As he hobbled closer to his destination, the trees became even scarcer and the hill became clear.

He was about to step into glade but suddenly Sandor felt the emptiness inside him filled and explode so fast and so violently he thought he might die. Only, out of the sudden, he didn’t want to anymore. Not after seeing a lone woman muttering something to his grave. She was facing to his right so he could see only half of her face and half her body.

 _Half was enough._ Sandor’s eyesight had always been good and true, better than good even. She was only 50 feet away and Sandor could examine her perfectly. The hair color was wrong, the eyes were closed but he was sure. _Sansa Stark_. Sansa Stark was standing in front of his grave.

Sandor blinked several times assuming that sooner or later his mind would stop tricking him and he would realize there was no one. The woman stubbornly remained. _Blasted woman!_ What was he to do? Reach for her? She seemed in trance muttering something he just couldn’t hear. Sandor supported himself against a tree, too shocked to even think and simply gawked at her. He thought that he was before a sight worth a thousand beautiful sunsets or sunrises. Sandor was before something unearthly.

He wanted so bad to understand what was she saying? _Is she chirping her courtesies? Is she mad at the Hound for not doing as she had ordered? Is she singing?_ Sansa Stark had grown. She should be five and ten a grown woman. She certainly had a woman’s body with full breasts and a divine curvy silhouette. Her simple black dress clinging tightly in the right places. She was also tall, taller than most. Sandor was stupefied and couldn’t move. He wanted so baldy to go to her; to ask her, how.

Out of the sudden a second woman appeared. She had short black hair and was dressed like a man, in leather. Sandor watched the interaction closely. Sansa -She had to be Sansa- turned and addressed her with familiarity. With a last nod, Sansa turned, kneeled and left something on the grave saying some final words.

They both began to retire and Sandor felt a desperate need- a need to breathe. As quickly as he could he limped his way towards the pair. The raven-haired woman heard him immediately and turned Sansa did the same most likely wondering what had caught her friend’s attention.

When she turned Sandor had no doubts- not that he ever did. She was Sansa Stark. Sansa frowned confused when she saw him. Her pretty lips parted as she took a little gasp. Sandor stopped seven feet away, give or take.

Suddenly time stood still; like a soft breeze’s caress in a hot day; a gasp of air after emerging from freezing water; a gulp of wine after long a battle; a soothing bath after days of filth. Like a dog finding his master, Sandor stood relieved at her sight. _The little bird managed to fly._ He could do nothing else.

“Can we help you brother?” The other woman asked. Sandor didn’t bother to answer and watched a small gesture of recognition passed through the Little Bird’s eyes. He was cowled in dun and brown but maybe the bird had seen past that; past his clothes, his skin and into his soul. Sansa gulped in what seemed distress. But quickly composed herself

“And so the hunter was hunted at the hour of the wolf.” Sansa said and smiled. Both Sandor and the other woman looked at her with confusion. “Be safe Brother” She looked at him one last time and turned. “Come on Mya, they must surely be wondering where we are.” Sansa ordered gently and began walking away gracefully. The other woman, Mya, eyed him suspiciously before following her. 

Sandor stood stunned for a while. _At the hour of the wolf?_ He pondered on those words and cursed inwardly, he hated not being spoken with clarity. _Blasted Elder brother, and thrice-blasted little bird._ Who the fuck she thought she was? She presumed she could come blew his mind and go with a fucking _Be safe Brother._ He hated himself for being this weak, but he had to speak with her alone… that’s when he understood. At the hour of the wolf. 

Sandor still stood, but with a firm resolution. He stood straighter, his back cracking in a blissful way. He contortioned his neck and arms, stretching his limbs that had suddenly remembered themselves. Remembered they could do something else than digging. He turned to leave but remembered that the little bird had left something and looked down to the grave.

A long black feather rested tenderly on the ground. Sandor smirked, don’t really knowing what to make of it. He watched the sun set and felt the chill of the twilight caress softly his robe. The lone feather took flight riding a cold draft and disappeared beyond the trees.

Sandor walked away heading for his hut. He needed to take a bath, pack and have Stranger prepared for whatever end. He supposed he needed to talk to the loony old man, Sandor didn’t want to assume the girl would chose to escape with him, She had chose not to once, but either way he would follow. He was in that deep.

Thankfully the Elder brother was already waiting, sitting on a log outside his hut. “Sandor, did you enjoy the view?” The old beard asked “Aye, I did.” His rasp of a voice answered feeling rustier than usual. “You know, you should have told me old man. My heart almost didn’t resist shock” Sandor reproached.

“And ruin the fun? No need to be so dramatic my friend. What a strange coincidence don’t you think?” The Elder Brother teased.

“What is she doing here?” Sandor demanded sternly.

“That it not for me to say, are you going to follow her?” The man asked curiously, fully knowing Sandor had probably survived his infection for the exact reason.

“I will.” Sandor confirmed.

“Good, she needs your help. Have no worries.” Elder Brother reassured him.

“I do not worry for stupid girls.” Sandor barked in defense, not liking the fact the old man knew he feared she would reject him.

“I bet you don’t” The man answered amused and laughed “Well then, I will pray for you both. Do come and visit sometime my friend”

“Don’t die anytime soon then and we shall see.” Sandor grunted and entered the hut, he needed to be ready, he had no time for stupid farewells.

 

 

 

Sandor walked towards the women’s cottages through the forest, avoiding the main road and prying eyes. His leg was hurting, but he had chewed an herb provided by the Old man that helped soothing the pain and he barely noticed it. Sandor was dressed in simple black trousers and light leather armor beneath a large wool cloak the Elder Brother had gave him. He had left his chainmail, breastplate, gauntlets and longsword with Stranger. Not really planning on leaving tonight but prepared if he had too.

Sandor caught the sight of the cottages noticing only five were lit. One, however, had a guard outside and Sandor instantly assumed that was Sansa’s. He squatted and began plotting his way into the cottage.

He was deep in thought when a rustle behind him startled him. Before anyone could tell what had happened Sandor had a knife at somebody’s throat. “Sandor?” A gust of a voice said gently. Sandor recognized it immediately and lowered the weapon.

“Little Bird, are you daft? I could have killed you.” Sandor growled angry at the girl’s lack of caution.

“You wont hurt me.” Sansa stated plainly. And Sandor cursed her for playing dirty; knowing those words would make his chest constrict. _She surely knows._

“No, little Bird. I wont hurt you” He reassured, defeated. “You knew I would come?” Sandor asked weakly _Am I that predictable?_

“I saw you coming, I wasn’t sure.” Sansa admitted lowering her eyes.

“You saw me?” Sandor repeated confused. Just then an owl hooted nearby and Sansa turned to it. She contemplated it for a second and smiled as she looked back at him. “I did” before Sandor could ask anything else the girl burst.

“I thought you dead! I mourned you! I- I believed you had broke your promise” Sansa reproached him full of fear. Sandor just stayed stoic, not really knowing what to say. “I thought I was truly alone.” Sandor saw her mask fall and her lip began to quiver. He hated crying woman; never really knowing what was he supposed to do. He did what he did best, and told the truth.

“Easy now, girl. I am alive and no thanks to your bitching sister.” Sandor commented annoyed at the thought of the little she-wolf. Sansa's eyes grew so wide Sandor thought they would outgrow her sockets. She grabbed forcefully his cloak and shook it.

“She is alive?! How?! When?” Tears openly began flowing down her cheeks; her eyes became red and her face flushed. _Fuck me she is a beauty._

“Cool down girl, I last saw her two months ago. I found her in the hands of some outlaws and took her away planning on ransom her to you brother.” Sandor explained shortly, no need to enter in details.

_-Hound! What is hanging around your neck?_

_-None of your fucking business_

_-How did you get it? Give it back! You don’t know what it is_

_-It was a gift. And I do know what it is and I fucking won't, It is mine now_

“That was a year ago! What happened.” Sansa asked fervently.

“ Your stupid brother got killed that's what happened, then we traveled to you aunt. And she got fucking killed too! We got into a fight and I got wounded. The infection crushed me down and she left me to die on the side road, the ungrateful brat.” Sandor told her full of resentment. Sansa let him go and broke down, shaking. Sandor thought for a moment she was crying again and with the dim moonlight he couldn’t very well decipher her gestures. But then Sansa threw her head back and laughter was all he could hear. _Fuck she is broken, now she is a loony._

“You were with Arya all this time” She continued laughing “How miserable for both of you” Sandor frowned and asked back.

“And you? We heard you married the imp and then disappeared after Joffrey’s death” Sansa calmed down and wiped away her tears.

“I am so glad” She commented quickly before sobering up and answered. “I was taken away by Littlefinger.”  She stated in all seriousness “He was been hiding me in the Eyrie, he got summoned to Harrenhal and that is why I am here.” She explained.

Sandor wanted to ask but the words got stuck in his throat. He knew what Littlefinger was capable of; he was a whore mongering and a cunning fuck that always looked for his best interest. Sansa was in danger, did she know?

“Sandor I-” She hesitated “I know you have no reason at all but I- I need you help” Sandor heart fluttered when his name passed those beautiful lips. He released a breath he didn’t knew was holding. _She asked._ “I will see you are properly rewarded, I swear.” Sansa added when there was no reply.

“Save your chirpings.” He answered crudely, when the girl looked away disappointed he added. “I can leave now if you want to.” Sansa eyed him carefully but smiled brightly. _That smile is reward enough_ Her face was softly glowing by the moonlight looking almost ethereal.

“Thank you Sandor.” Sansa said looking at him right in the face _Are you not afraid anymore? Little bird…_ “I wish to leave now, but then my friend Mya would be tortured and it could cause problems to the Elder Brother, he has been so kind. No, I need to leave under his watch so he can only blame himself.” Sandor assumed whose watch it was and felt angry.

“What then?” Sandor asked irritated.

“I leave on the morrow, I shall be waiting at an inn for LittleFinger’s arrival on the afternoon. I don’t know which inn though.” Sansa said and bit her lip; Sandor’s blood got pumped fasted at the sight. _I am the one who will be tortured. Fuck, I am a masochist._

“Crab’s Inn. It’s the only one running after the sack.” He replied hastily.

“I see” Sansa nodded “I will be waiting you outside the inn at nightfall. I- I might be in need of your help, please don’t take long.” Sandor didn’t question her and replied “I shall be the one waiting for you then.” Sansa sighed in relief and looked at the faint rays of sunrise.

“I have to go.” She muttered but made no move to leave. “I was afraid it wasn’t you back at the grave.” Sansa confessed shyly and for a moment Sandor saw the little bird who was always frightened back at King’s Landing. Not the dark haired beauty that seemed like a stranger. Sandor felt glad she was still in there.

“I never doubted it was you” He said frankly. Sansa beamed. “I know you hate it but thank you. I know you really don’t have a reason and-” Sandor smiled a twisted quirk of lips. “Hush now, go back before you get caught.” Sansa nodded and began walking away through the woods.

“Oi, little bird” Sandor called and Sansa looked back. “Dark brown is not really becoming on you” He said lightly.

“Really? It does bring out my eyes don’t you think?” Sansa chuckled, blushing at his bold and quite improper comment. He caught the blush despite the poor light and smirked.

“Red did that just fine. Go now, else you will look like shit in the morning and everyone would be wondering why.” Sandor dismissed her, and walked the other way with a renewed energy.

 

The reason is you, foolish girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the Kudos :)


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